Scarlet Cloth
by LadyTemeraire
Summary: Sometime nothing needs to be said. It is simply enough to be together. Russia/China, oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, unfortunately.

***

Wang Yao made his way down the main staircase with one hand trailing along the banister. His jet-black eyes were heavy-lidded, silken hair mussed from his impromptu nap. He caught sight of himself in the mirror on the wall and groaned, raking his fingers through the strands in an attempt to straighten the ponytail.

He hadn't _meant_ to fall asleep. But the fire had been stoked high in the den, and the sky was so grey outside that he'd burrowed under an afghan with a book. He woke three hours later with a rumpled changsan and a crick in his neck. Ivan, in the meantime had disappeared.

Sighing, he tugged the worst of the wrinkles out of his clothes and threw his still-disheveled appearance a frown before heading into the library. He replaced the book, pausing for a moment when he heard footsteps nearby. Toris appeared around the bookshelf with a stack of volumes; he replaced several before he noticed the Oriental man and started. "Ah, China-san," he said a bit uncertainly. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Yao nodded pleasantly. "Ah... Is Ivan..."

"Russia-san went out a little while ago," the Lithuanian explained. "He... did not say when he would be back."

"I see," Yao said quietly.

Toris tipped his head sideways. "You really care for him, don't you." It was a statement, not a question, and undercut with an emotion that Yao could not fully place.

Yao nodded, ebony eyes warm and glowing. "He... Ivan is -"

His words were cut off by a startled yelp and a terrific metallic crash in the kitchen. "Eduard?" Toris called in concern.

The Estonian's voice floated back to them, laced with mild annoyance. "Whoever used the pots last booby-trapped the cupboard."

"Sorry!" Raivis cried from somewhere in the house.

Toris' lips twitched in a smile, though he ducked his head to hide it. Now it was Yao's turn to tilt his head, curiosity in his eyes. "You and your brothers are very close, yes? You... you know each other's quirks; you do not need to talk. It's just enough to be together, aru." He fingered the gold trim accenting the sleeve of his crimson changsan as his voice faltered. "It is not... something that you can put into words. You just... know."

Toris regarded him with keen interest. "That's exactly what it's like."

Yao met his gaze, saying simply, "And that is how it is with Ivan and me, aru."

Biting his lip, Lithuania hesitantly said, "China-san..."

Whatever he was going to say was forgotten as the library door clicked open. "I am back," Ivan announced cheerfully. "I trust everything is in order?"

"Ah, Russia-san," Lithuania began, then broke off with a startled inhalation. Yao peeked around his shoulder to see -

Blood.

"Ivan!" he cried, darting past the stock-still Baltic. The Russian blinked at him with surprised lilac eyes as Yao grasped his wrist, turning the injured hand palm-up. Yao's eyes widened at the crimson stain on the bandages. "What did you _do_ to yourself, aru?"

"Yao, I am fine," Ivan smiled. "You do not need to worry -"

"Did someone else do this, then? Who?" He pulled the ends of the bandage free so it could be unwound and the wound cleaned. "I cannot believe someone would attack you, aru. None of your people are so foolish, aru. Unless it was an animal of some kind; but there are no wild animals near here, so - _mmph_."

His rambling was cut off as Ivan effortlessly tugged his hand free and covered Yao's mouth. Ebony eyes shot up to pale violet, brow furrowing in confusion as he mumbled something indistinguishable. Ivan smiled again, gently. "Hush," he said softly. "I'm fine."

Yao placed his left hand on Ivan's chest, without any attempt to pull away, and shut up. If Ivan could speak that calmly, he was obviously not in any serious pain. His other hand touched Ivan's, lightly, and he felt the calloused thumb brush his cheek before it dropped away

The Lithuanian reappeared (Yao hadn't even heard him leave the library), first-aid kit in hand, and Yao accepted it with a nod of thanks. Ivan allowed Yao to propel him over to a chair and permitted him to tend to the wound, smiling fondly as the Chinaman fussed over him. Throughout it all they were silent; nothing was spoken - nothing needed to be spoken.

It was enough just to be there, together.

Toris watched them from behind the bookshelf the whole time, an inscrutable expression in his emerald eyes.

_~Fin~_

A/N: this entire fic was pointless fluff and had nothing to do with anything. Not what I usually write. *sheepish grin* It was inspired the minute I saw SakuraBlossom4's excellent China/Russia picture on DeviantArt, and only furthered by the doujin "Please Teach Me" by Setomi, also on DeviantArt. The wound is, oddly enough, not meant to be anything historical and has no real significance.

A note on the honorifics/names, according to my head canon: I know that in Japanese culture, only those very close to you are allowed to use your given name without any honorific attached. Because of Ivan and Yao's close relationship, I think that they would forgo honorifics and country names and just use first names, at least in private. Toris would do the same with his brothers (and Poland, obviously); however, since Yao is many years his senior and Ivan is his superior, he would _always_ use honorifics and probably prefer country names to human names. If it was someone he was more comfortable with, like Alfred, he might use first name + honorific instead.

I have seen a few fanfics, including the aforementioned doujin, where Toris refers to Yao as China-kun. This could be attributed to Yao's bishie/young appearance; however, it doesn't make much sense to me, so I had him use -san instead. *points to above mention of ages for accuracy*

Please review!


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